Work Text:
1
Evan knocks on Roz and Hollander’s hotel room door. He expects to have to wait a few minutes for a response. The whole team is used to having to wait for those two to get decent before opening any door.
He quickly hears footsteps nearing, though, and then Hollander pulls the door open, wearing a full fucking suit, beaming and breathing, “Hi, baby.”
“Uh,” Evan says.
“Oh,” Hollander says. He coughs and fidgets on the spot. “Um, hi, Dykstra. Can I help you with anything?”
Evan clears his throat and tries not to think about why Hollander is wearing a suit at 9pm in the evening when he’s clearly waiting for his husband. He tries to just be grateful Hollander’s not naked, or something.
He explains, “We’re all going out, and neither of you guys texted back in the group, so we just wanted to check whether you want to come - I mean, whether you want to join us.”
“That’s nice of you to check,” Hollander says. “But we can’t tonight. We’re celebrating.”
“Cool,” Evan says, determined not to find out more. “Have fun. I’ll let the guys know you won’t make it.”
“They’ll understand, right?” Hollander asks. “We would, but it’s kind of a big day for us.”
Evan believes him; he can see little halos of light all around the room behind Hollander, as though he’s lit dozens of tea candles in there.
“Listen, man, it’s none of my business but I don’t think we’re allowed candles in the rooms. I don’t think burning down the hotel is something we should be risking.”
Hollander’s lips twitch. “They’re electric. So you can relax.”
“Right, cool.”
As he’s about to turn to leave, Roz appears in the corner of Evan’s vision, carrying a bottle of champagne and a giant bouquet of white flowers.
He stops near Evan but doesn’t spare him a glance. “You look beautiful, Shane,” Roz tells Hollander.
Hollander narrows his eyes. “Shut up.”
Roz grins, then turns his attention to Evan. “Are you okay, D? Does the team need something?”
“No,” Evan says. “All good. You guys have a nice evening.”
Roz wraps an arm around Hollander. “Is an important day. On this day, one year ago, Shane proposed to me.”
Hollander reaches up to tangle his fingers with Roz’s. “Can’t believe it’s been a whole year since then.”
Roz smiles, wide and unguarded and a little silly. “Are you saying you are already tired of me, Hollander?”
Hollander doesn’t smile back at all. His eyes get even more intense than usual. “Never,” he says.
Roz knocks their foreheads together for a brief moment, then seems to remember that Evan is there. “Okay, D,” he says. “Have fun going out. Remember to be up on time for the flight. Remind everyone, please.”
Hollander smiles angelically and Roz grins at him again. “Your present, sweetheart. Everything will be so smooth tomorrow, you will see. I will keep everyone in line.”
“What about those?” Evan asks, pointing at the flowers, before he can stop himself. “Aren’t those your present?”
Roz shakes his head. “This is bare minimum,” he announces. “Tell me you do not just give Caitlin flowers on your anniversary and nothing else.”
Evan scoffs. “Of course not, no, I wouldn’t – I give her shit tons of presents, yeah. Absolutely.”
Hollander pulls at Roz’s hand. “Your present’s in the room,” he says.
“Ah, yes,” Roz says. “I will unpack it, nice and slow.”
Hollander mutters something under his breath in Russian, making Roz smirk and raise his eyebrows at Evan.
Evan takes his cue and leaves.
2
“Barbecue on Saturday,” Bood calls, offering beers to Hayes and Hollander, who are talking near the salad bar.
Hazy takes his beer with thanks, Hollander declines politely.
Bood pauses there for a moment. It’s a hot day, and the garden party at Chouinard’s is nice. Selena’s clearly put in a lot of effort. There is a dire lack of grilled meats, though.
“Should we bring anything?” Hazy asks. “Side dishes, drinks, anything like that?”
Bood waves a hand. “No need. There’s lots of beer and cider left over from the last one, and Cassie told me the WAGs sorted out how to split the sides already.”
“Cool,” Hazy says. He turns to Hollander. “Lisa was raving about that buckwheat thing you and Roz brought to the last one.”
“That’s right,” Bood says. “Cassie was, too. It looked good.” It had, in the way health foods in the newsletters Cassie reads look good. Like a composition, not quite like food.
“Thanks,” Hollander says. “Ilya and I cook together when we can. That one was fun to make. It was a recipe I’ve had for a while. We’ll try to join you all on Saturday, but I think we might not be able to. If we do make it, we’ll have to leave early. Is that – I hope you don’t mind?”
“No problem, it’s casual as always,” Bood tells him. “Any special plans?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Hollander says.
Hazy looks confused. “Wasn’t that earlier this month?”
“Oh, yeah,” Hollander says. “Yes, that’s – you’re right, this is a different – um, this was the first time we, we – kissed.”
“That’s nice that you celebrate that,” Hazy says.
Hollander nods and mumbles thanks. He’s blushing all over.
“Hello!” Roz says, smiling. He’s carrying an ice cream cone in each hand. “Sweetheart, look, I got us these.” He adds something in Russian that makes Hollander blush even more deeply.
Hollander makes a sudden motion, batting his hands, knocking the ice cream cones onto the ground. He stares at them in silence for a second.
Then he says, “Oh, god. Fuck, Ilya, I’m so sorry, I was only -”
“Is okay,” Roz says soothingly. “We can get more, or we can go home.”
Hollander nods frantically. “Home, home, let’s – go, let’s -”
“Okay, Shane, okay,” Roz says. “We are going.”
Hollander has gone very still by now. “Sorry,” he mumbles again.
“Hey, no,” Roz says. “Why are you apologising? Everything is good. Right, Bood, Hazy?”
“Yeah,” Bood says.
“Of course,” Hazy says.
“We’re going to be missing Bood’s next barbecue,” Hollander says. He looks almost anguished. “You know, it’s on Saturday, when we have plans?”
“Yes, no problem,” Roz says. “We will go to the next barbecue again. Everything is good.”
“I don’t like to make you miss the barbecues,” Hollander says stiffly.
“Oh,” Roz says. “Shane. I want to celebrate with you. Is our anniversary. That is very important, right? The first time we -”
“Kissed,” Hollander says quickly.
The corner of Roz’s mouth lifts. “Exactly. I want to be at home with you cooking dinner. We will come to the next one, Bood.”
“It’s really fine,” Bood says. He isn’t sure why Hollander is so upset over missing just one barbecue. It’s not like everyone on the team shows up every single time.
Roz continues, “And we will see you on the first day of camp, yes?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Bood says, shaking Roz’s hand. He’d clap Hollander on the shoulder, but right now that seems like a bad idea.
Hazy appears to be having the same thought, because he just waves.
Roz takes Hollander’s hand and leads him away.
As they go, Bood can hear them talk quietly.
“Today is also a very important day,” Roz whispers.
“Huh?” Hollander makes.
“Today is anniversary of the day I asked them to include you in the commercial.”
“Ilya,” Hollander says.
“I love you, Shane.”
“Let’s hurry. I want to be home, baby,” Hollander says. “Take me home.”
Roz, as always, seems entirely happy to comply.
3
“Roz?” Troy asks.
“Ilya?” Harris says, waving a hand in front of Roz’s face.
Roz turns back to them where he was staring at Hollander ordering the next round up at the bar. “Huh?”
“Have you been listening to us at all?”
“Do you see my husband in those jeans?”
Troy, in fact, has been trying very much not to look at Hollander in those jeans. He catches Harris’s eye and they both snicker, clearly thinking the same thing.
“That is my husband,” Roz says, outraged.
“You just told us to look at him!”
Roz huffs. “I meant, I have an excuse to be distracted.”
“That’s fair, I guess,” Harris says.
Troy shrugs and grabs more peanuts from the little bowl on their table. “Yeah, we’ll give you a pass.”
“Thank you,” Roz says haughtily. “So what were you saying to me?”
“I’m having a party for my birthday Saturday next week,” Troy tells him. “Can you guys make it? It’s just at our place, nothing fancy, drinks and music and shit.”
“Next Saturday, no,” Roz says, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”
“No? Why not? We don’t have a game.”
“Is our anniversary,” Roz explains.
Harris frowns in confusion. “What do you mean? It’s February. You guys got engaged in January, moved in together in June, got married in July.”
“How do you know all this?” Troy asks.
“I pay attention, buddy.”
Troy rolls his eyes, grinning. “So, Roz. What’s the real reason?”
“I told you, it’s our anniversary!”
“Whose anniversary?” Hollander asks, dropping back into their booth next to Roz and handing out beers.
“Ours, next Saturday.”
“What do we have coming up that we’d celebrate an anniversary for?”
“Well,” Roz says with a shit-eating grin. “Instead of anniversary, you could say -”
“No!” Hollander interrupts him. “I get it, I remember, it’s all good. Stop talking.”
Roz pouts. “I was going to be clever and funny.”
“You were going to be inappropriate.”
“I would never do that.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“Oh, who is being inappropriate now, Hollander?”
Troy offers Harris some peanuts while Roz and Hollander continue bickering. Harris takes them with a smile, putting his hand on Troy’s thigh under the table. Troy is just considering how to best make an excuse and leave early, when Hollander gets up and pulls on his jacket.
“Home,” he orders Roz. “Now.”
“We have the car, is dark, no need to wait -”
“Ilya.”
Roz grins at Troy and Harris, gives them a little wave, and follows Hollander outside.
“What do you think he was going to say?” Troy asks once they’re gone.
“Anal-versary, I guess,” Harris says.
“Oh,” Troy says. “Huh. Maybe we should start celebrating that?”
“Sure,” Harris says, grinning. “And you know what’s lucky for us?”
“What’s that?”
Harris grabs Troy’s hand, pulling him out of the booth with a wink. “We get to celebrate it twice a year.”
4
“All right,” Brandon says. “That’s everything, I think. Let’s win a fucking Cup this season.”
He’s itching for the team to show the league they can do it. Hollander's in his second season now and has settled in extremely well. Bood and Roz have always worked great together at leading the team, and now with Hollander getting the A as well, there'll be no stopping them.
The four of them just finished a very productive strategy meeting on how to best keep the team motivated throughout the playoffs. It’s their time, Brandon can feel it.
Bood claps his hands. “Let’s fucking do it. About time.”
Brandon reaches to close his laptop, when a new email comes in. “The outreach team just sent dates for the kids’ hospital visit next month,” he says. “It’s in the second week of July.”
“Harris told me the outreach team loved your guys’ suggestion of visiting the kids’ mental health ward specifically,” Bood says to Rozanov and Hollander. “The hospital was really excited to organise it as well, apparently.”
“That’s great,” Hollander says. “We’ll have to miss the first one, unfortunately, we’re away for our wedding anniversary.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Brandon says. “I heard Hazy and Dykstra already saying they’ll definitely be there, and I’m sure many of the other guys will, too.”
“Good,” Hollander says. “We’ll be there for the other ones in the future, of course.”
Brandon catches Bood’s eye. He can tell they’re both noticing Hollander doing the talking for both him and Rozanov. Rozanov, meanwhile, is looking blankly at Brandon’s desk.
Bood stands and stretches. “I gotta get home, relieve Cassie for the rest of the day. Milo’s going through a bad nightmare phase and we barely slept last night. See you all tomorrow.”
He claps Rozanov on the shoulder, a gesture of support. Rozanov will say something if he wants to talk, they all know that. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t.
Bood’s touch seems to shake him out of his trance. “Yes,” he says. “Goodbye.”
They all look after Bood for a moment as he leaves Brandon’s office.
Then Hollander takes Rozanov’s hand. “Come on, Ilya. Let’s go.”
Rozanov nods and gets up. His shoulders are slumping. Brandon doesn’t like the look of him at all, but he can’t exactly intrude and ask. And he trusts Hollander to take care of their captain more than anyone.
Brandon finally closes his laptop and stashes it in his bag to take home before hunting around his desk for his wallet and car keys. It’s only once he hears Rozanov and Hollander talk right outside the door that he realises they haven’t properly pulled it shut.
“I would really like to go to see the kids at the hospital,” Rozanov says quietly. “But I don’t think I can.”
“Baby, it’s okay,” Hollander says. “That’s the week we’re going to the cottage for our anniversary. So we wouldn’t have made it anyway.”
“I shouldn’t feel relieved to miss it,” Rozanov says. “It’s important – I want to help the kids.”
Hollander sounds fierce when he responds. “You are. You’re talking about having depression, you’re being open. That means a lot to people. You know it does.”
“Maybe.” Rozanov seems tired.
Brandon should have got up and interrupted them to make clear he could hear them immediately. Now he feels like it’s too late. He vows to do his best to forget everything he’s hearing.
“It does,” Hollander insists. “I’ll keep reminding you until you see it.”
“I know.” Rozanov’s voice is muffled now, like he’s speaking into Hollander’s shoulder or shirt. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby,” Hollander says tenderly.
“I’m so tired,” Rozanov says. “Shane, I’m really tired.”
“I know, baby. It’s just the playoffs. We’re almost done. We can figure it out together, okay? You’ve done such an amazing job all season. We’re going to be at the cottage so soon.”
“Okay,” Rozanov says. “Yes.”
“If you need a break, we can talk to -”
“No,” Rozanov says. “No, I – I need you to get me through the playoffs, Shane.”
“Right,” Hollander says. “I can do that. Thank you for asking me for help, yeah? You’re being so brave.”
Rozanov laughs harshly.
“You are,” Hollander says. “Let’s take the rest of the day off. Let’s go home and walk Anya. How does that sound?”
Rozanov says, “That sounds like something I can do.”
It’s only once their steps have receded completely that Brandon finally gets his things and heads out towards the car park. He, too, feels like going home.
5
There’s a cacophony of high-pitched screeching that Nick instantly recognises as his daughters’. He and Selena turn automatically to see their three girls jumping on Roz and trying to bring him down onto the grass.
Nick really hopes that their team-and-families day out in the park isn’t going to result in an injury to their captain.
“Is he okay?” Selena asks.
“Oh, yeah,” a voice says behind them.
Hollander joins them, holding a cider.
“They can be very intense,” Nick says. Their youngest has started drumming on Roz’s head with her fists.
“He’s having fun,” Hollander says. “Don’t worry. The Pike kids have done way worse to him. They have a game called ‘catch Uncle Ilya and demolish him’.”
“Sounds fun,” Selena says with a laugh.
“He loves it,” Hollander says fondly. “He’s such a big kid sometimes.”
Anya has started to yap and dance around where Roz is pretending to struggle against the kids. He drops to the ground dramatically, admitting defeat, letting Anya lick his face while the children do a victory dance around him.
Selena giggles. “I’m happy if someone plays with them so they can burn off some energy. They’ve had so many cupcakes, I’m worried they’ll never sleep tonight.”
Roz is approaching them, brushing grass off his jeans, leaving the kids rolling around the ground with Anya.
“Thank you for playing with them,” Nick tells him once he’s joined their little group.
Roz steals a sip of Hollander’s cider, dodging a light slap Hollander dishes out in revenge. “They are cool kids. Very smart and strong.”
“They are,” Selena says. “But they’re a lot if you have them all the time, trust me. I wish I could have a night off, but it’s hard to find a good nanny who can deal with all three of them.”
“We can babysit for you!” Ilya says. “We are great babysitters, ask the Pikes. Shane, can we?”
Hollander smiles slowly, blinking at where Roz is standing in the sun, looking hopeful. “Yeah, whatever you want, baby.”
“Yes!” Roz says, grinning. “It’s win-win. Nick, Selena, you get a night off, and the kids get to spend the evening with someone fun. And Shane will also be there.”
“Fuck you,” Hollander says.
Roz grabs him and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “It will be so great. I will let them have dessert and jump on the sofa, and you will be very sensible, saying, no, kids, eat your vegetables, no, let’s read a book together instead of jumping on the furniture…”
“I don’t even enjoy reading that much,” Hollander grumbles.
Roz wraps his arms around him and sways him on the spot. “We can get them gifts. Boring hockey books for kids.”
Hollander smiles indulgently. “Sure, we can do that.”
Roz grins brightly at Nick and Selena. “Okay. Deal?”
“Fantastic,” Selena says. “How about next Friday? It would be nice to have a Friday night to go out, wouldn’t it, Nick?”
Nick nods. He can tell Selena wishes they had a regular weekly schedule to match most of her friends’ routines, so a Friday night off would be nice for her.
“No, no,” Roz says. “Next Friday we can’t.” He nuzzles Hollander’s cheek. “We have a very important day that day.”
Hollander smiles. “It’s our anniversary,” he explains to Nick and Selena.
“Wasn’t it your anniversary last week?” Nick asks. They’d missed a team night out, citing a fancy restaurant dinner as their celebration.
“That was for our wedding anniversary,” Roz says. “Next Friday is for the first time we said I love you.”
“Oh my god,” Selena says. “I’m going to die. That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.”
“We are very cute,” Roz says.
Hollander chuckles. He’s holding onto Roz’s arms around him. “I’m sure other people celebrate that.”
“Not as well as we do,” Roz says.
“Obviously not,” Hollander agrees before looking at Selena. “How about the week after? It gives us enough time before the first camp starts this summer.”
“That’s perfect,” Selena says. “Thank you guys so much.”
“Yeah, thanks, guys,” Nick says.
He’s going to have to try and remember the first time he and Selena said I love you. Apparently, Roz and Hollander are raising the bar for celebrations.
+1
The mood in the locker room is incredible when Ilya comes back from doing press. A shutout to start the season naturally has the team buzzing, even if it was only Buffalo they played. Most of the guys are joking around, someone is playing music, the rookies are taking triumphant pictures of themselves.
Ilya catches Shane’s gaze. There’s an unspoken command in his eyes. Hurry the fuck up.
Ilya showers quickly and gets dressed as fast as he can. Occasionally, he catches Shane watching him, unsmiling and expectant. It makes Ilya’s head spin, as always.
He and Shane are about to exit the room, when Young jumps on a bench and shouts, “Hey, captain!”
Ilya turns back. “What?”
“Are you sneaking out? We’re going out to celebrate! Come on, come with us, guys!”
“Ah, no,” Ilya says. “We can’t today.”
“Why not?” Young asks. “You can come along for an hour, can’t you?”
“It’s an important day,” Ilya says.
“Okay, no,” Dillon says. “We’ve all compared notes and you have like half a dozen anniversaries you skip events for. What else could you possibly be celebrating that means you have to miss drinks today?”
Ilya feels Shane tense slightly next to him.
“Oh, I know!” Luca says. “Is it the day you moved in together?”
“That was earlier in the year, though, right?” Holmberg says. “Hollzy moved here before his birthday that year, way before the season started.”
“This is not about us,” Ilya says with dignity. “Anya had important vet procedure this morning. We have to go pick her up and celebrate with her that she did well.”
That gets the guys to apologise and send them on and wish Anya the best, which is all the excuse they need.
“Thank you for lying, baby,” Shane says, once they’re through the door of their house and stowing their shoes on the rack.
Ilya laughs. “I knew you would not want me to tell the truth.”
Shane bites his lip. “They’d think we’re crazy.”
“Mhm.” Ilya backs Shane up against the wall and grabs his jaw.
Shane’s eyes widen a little in anticipation.
“Hollander,” Ilya says, dropping his voice a little. He likes this game. “You are late.”
“Fuck you,” Shane whispers. “I had to give a shit-ton of interviews after making you look stupid on the ice.”
Ilya gently shakes Shane’s head from side to side as he tightens his grip. He hates to interrupt a roleplay, but he can’t let this slide. “I won that day.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“If you did, why would I have been late?”
“Because you are slow.”
“We can look it up online right now,” Shane says, going for his phone.
“Does not matter,” Ilya says. “We can skip this part.”
Shane grins. “Uh-huh, okay.”
Truthfully, Ilya doesn’t remember, and he’s getting hard enough not to care any more. He tilts his head, leaning in close and kissing Shane softly. Shane sighs into it, sliding his hands into Ilya’s hair and tugging him closer.
“I missed you so fucking much,” Shane mumbles.
“Me, too,” Ilya says. “Was too long.”
He slides his hands underneath Shane’s thighs and lifts him up. Shane laughs, hitching his legs higher around Ilya’s waist and holding on as he captures Ilya’s lips for a fierce kiss.
Ilya carries Shane to the bottom of the stairs, then smacks his ass to get him to hurry on the way up. They tumble into bed, pulling off their clothes in between kisses.
Ilya takes a long time to open Shane up. Nowadays, they fuck most days, and Shane doesn’t need as much prep as years ago, so this feels like eternity. It’s clearly the same for Shane by the way he’s writhing underneath Ilya and kicking out a little and cursing Ilya out.
“Relax,” Ilya tells him, barely managing to suppress a smile. “It’s been two months, remember?”
“Fuck you,” Shane whines.
Ilya turns away to hide his grin, and reaches for the bedside drawer. He’s pretty sure that the condoms they do still have are out of date, not that it matters. As Ilya knew he would, Shane catches his wrist. He feels giddy, elated, waiting for it to happen.
“When was your last test?” Shane breathes.
Ilya shivers all over. He struggles for words for a moment. “Beginning of the season.”
“And you haven’t – since the cottage, you haven’t -”
“No,” Ilya tells him fiercely. “I have not. Never again. Only you, Shane. I love you.”
Shane grabs him for another kiss. “Same, it’s the same for me,” he says. His voice is hushed; Ilya has to strain to hear him. “Want you just like this, without.”
Ilya groans and leans their foreheads together. “You are sure?”
Shane’s fingertips stroke up and down the side of Ilya’s face, cupping his jaw, tracing the shell of his ear. “So sure. Want to feel you, want your come in me.”
“Oh, fuck,” Ilya breathes. “Shane, yes.”
He settles back over Shane and takes a hold of his strong thighs, taking a moment to run his thumbs over the skin before pushing them all the way up.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Shane asks. “I’m pretty sure I was on top, no?”
“Don’t break character, Hollander.”
“How the fuck could I break character? I’m playing me.”
“Then you should remember you were on top later, not in the beginning.”
“Hm,” Shane says, sounding suspicious. “If you say so.”
“You have a problem with me doing all the work?”
Shane whacks Ilya’s shoulder. “You know I don’t, asshole. Go ahead if you think this is how it happened.”
“This is how it happened.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“Funny. Saying that is always in character for you.”
Ilya prevents any protest by pushing into Shane, immediately setting a fast pace that has Shane digging his nails into Ilya’s shoulders and pressing his head back into the pillow. He’s flushed and sweaty and leaking precome over his stomach, so familiar and so achingly beautiful Ilya could bend down and eat him up. He does lean down for a kiss and a few bites along Shane’s jaw, and angles his hips on the next thrust so he can get deeper.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” Shane whines. “Yes, Ilya, keep – oh, holy shit – oh, baby – harder -”
Ilya can’t fuck Shane much harder than he already is in this position. He tries to ease out so he can grab Shane and fuck him standing up.
Shane scrambles to hold onto him. “What are you doing?”
“You said harder – I can stand up and -”
“But the roleplay,” Shane says. “You definitely weren’t standing up back then.”
“Fuck it,” Ilya breathes. “We do what you want right now.”
“Oh, yes, please, fuck,” Shane says, reaching to cup Ilya’s face and kiss him, uncoordinated with Ilya having pulled halfway out. Before Ilya can deepen their kiss, Shane shoves at his chest. “Up, stand up.”
“Okay,” Ilya breathes. “Anything you want, Shane. Ya tebya lyublyu.”
“Love you,” Shane murmurs, wincing a little as Ilya pulls the rest of the way out and drags him to the edge of the bed. It’s quick, and Shane smiles blissfully when Ilya lifts him up by the hips and enters him again.
Shane is sighing, eyes closed. “Yeah, like this.”
Ilya has to hold Shane’s hips up, has to grip him hard enough to know he’ll have bruises tomorrow. He thinks of Shane, in the showers at practice, Ilya’s marks on his skin. He snaps his hips as hard as he can, and Shane shouts.
“Good?”
“Ugh, fuck you,” Shane groans. “More, come on.”
Ilya uses all the strength he has to fuck Shane relentlessly. Only when Shane puts his hands over Ilya’s, squeezing for a moment, does Ilya realise that they never bothered to take their rings off.
Shane looks up at him, panting. When he smiles, a little shaky with the brutal pace Ilya is setting now, Ilya can see the cute little crow’s feet that have started appearing in the corners of his eyes in the past year or so.
Little punched-out noises are escaping him. His eyes are dark and desperate. Slippery streaks of precome are covering his stomach and chest.
Ilya needs to see him come, right now.
“Stroke yourself for me, sweetheart.”
Shane obeys, making Ilya moan. “Perfect, Shane. So perfect, always.”
“Yeah,” Shane rasps, tilting his hips just right as he comes, enough to take Ilya over the edge with him.
Shane laughs, gasping, his voice pitching high, so different from back then, and not any different at all. “Perfect, Ilya, all this time.”